His Old Friends
by IheartOakenshield193712
Summary: A year after surviving the war, Norman is caught in another battle: the flu. And in the midst of this flu, he has feverish dreams of those he loved. :: Rated T for language
**Hi :) I personally admit this is a little cheesy, but I've been sittin' on it for about a year. If you follow or favorite or just read it again from time to time, there's a good chance I'll still be revising it. I just wanted to get it out there :D**

 **Hope you like it!**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not own anything below!**

* * *

Norman, pale and weak and broken out in a cold sweat, fought the nurse's hand as he tried to sit up. "M-Maggie," he slurred more than grunted. "I told you that I am fine. I don't need to be here!"

"You're sick, Norman," she replied sweetly as if she hadn't repeated that same phrase to him for the past two hours. "You must rest. There's no war to be at anymore. Calm down."

He still struggled to sit. "But Maggie! War seemed so fucking hard and such a fucking nightmare!"

"You were in a tank with men you thought held no respect for you," Maggie sighed. She pushed him back against the cot and took his pulse. "It's understandable how it could have been a nightmare."

"Th-they were good men. Th-they survived s-s-so much together b-before I fucking joined." He cleared his throat and smiled lightly. "Shit, I forgot how great they were." He sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of the hospital nightshirt.

Maggie slapped his hand. "Stop that," she scolded. "Go to sleep, Norman. You've had a long day and no doubt will have a long night."

"But I'm not sick, Maggie," he protested, reaching for her arm. He laughed sickly when she involuntarily flinched away. "Mags, I fought in that war. World War II. I fought fucking Nazis in Germany. I fucking lived! I was the only one left and I fucking lived."

She gave him a look.

"Sure I was there for a few weeks, but I fought with the greatest crew that ever lived!"

"Norman," Maggie prompted.

"But I fucking survived," he said in an almost dream-like state. He wiped his nose on the nightshirt again and Maggie groaned. "A-and now I can't break through this goddamn cold!"

Maggie pulled the covers up to his chin. "I've told you, Norman. This is the flu. You must sleep your fever off."

"But-"

"No buts," she interrupted. "Talking feverish nonsense that you won't even remember is not going to help you one bit." She placed a cool cloth on his forehead and checked his IV bag one last time. "Now-"

"I should be well!" Norman whined deliriously.

"Perhaps you shouldn't've gone out in the rain without any suitable clothes," she scolded. She huffed and made him swallow some pills. "Now, sleep. Rebecca will be here in the morning. Tell the late night nurses if you need anything. Goodnight, Norman."

"G'night, Maggie," he slurred. He closed his eyes and was instantly pulled in a deep dream...

 _Hello._ It was a sweet and soft voice - shy but familiar.

Norman frowned and turned fitfully in his sleep.

 _No, don't do that._ It scolded. Norman harrumphed and turned over again. _This isn't a bad dream - not a night terror like you've had. Open your eyes._ A soft puff of air hit his dream-state face and Norman complied to the voice.

He was met with a stunning blue eyes - eyes he remembered meeting in Germany. They were kind eyes - some that, when he first saw them, he knew he could spend the rest of his life looking at. But that dream had faded when the bomb hit. He licked his chapped lips and said with relieved smile, "Emma."

She smiled widely, letting out a little laugh. _Hello._

"Norman," he said to her.

 _Norman._ She repeated, her tongue catching on his name.

"How have you been?" he asked before his brain could catch his mouth. He cringed and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."

She shrugged and smiled anyway. _Alright. Your friends are... well, the same when I first met them. They haven't changed._

Norman stumbled, his eyes suddenly wide with both anxiety and excitement. "They're here?" His mouth twitched for several moments - unsure if he should smile or break down crying. "Really?"

A nod.

A hand clapped his shoulder suddenly, sending him forward for a split second before he caught himself. Norman turned and felt both his mouth quirk upward and tears form in his eyes. _H_ ey, _son._ He said with a proud smile on his face. _You survived the war. I knew you would._

He was still struck by the fact that he was face-to-face with his old officer. "H-hey..."

Wardaddy squinted and gestured behind Norman. _That stuff you told the nurse? Mentioning the war? Us?_ He flashed a small smile. _We ain't good men, Norman. We ain't. You were the good one and that's how it was you who survived._ He shrugged and looked at Norman - the easy smile still on his face. _It was always gonna be you._

Norman fidgeted, feeling Wardaddy's hard eyes on him, studying him very carefully.

 _You're gonna survive this flu, Norman, and you're gonna live a long life._

"H-how do you know?" he sniffled. "How do you know this won't kill me?"

 _Because it sure as hell ain't your time._ Wardaddy replied in a chuckle. _The_ _fucking flu ain't gonna kill you._

 _He's right. But.. when you do come back finally,_ Emma paused. _It's going to be like you never left._

He frowned tiredly. "Left what?"

 _This dream._ She answered with a sad smile. She looked at Wardaddy

He stepped forward and grasped Norman's shoulder. _I'm proud of you, son._

Norman sniffed again - nodding to his old officer. "Thank you, sir."

Emma leaned forward and kissed Norman. _Goodbye, Norman._

"Goodbye," he said quietly. He watched their figures fade away until he realized he was staring up at the ceiling of the hospital.

* * *

Norman returned to the dream when he was eighty-seven. He was greeted by his old friends, both from the war and the life he lived after. He was reunited with his wife and Emma who still looked the same as she had in 1945.

After he made his rounds around the area, he came upon Wardaddy. A great grin graced his face as he shook the man's hand. Fifty-seven years and he was still so proud of the fact that he had named his first son after the officer.


End file.
